


see the daybreak through black curtains

by HamiltonTrashPanda



Series: My Numerous Kanej Fics [1]
Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/F, F/M, Home, Hugging, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Rescue, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:28:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26671402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamiltonTrashPanda/pseuds/HamiltonTrashPanda
Summary: "If Inej Ghafa were to die on this ship, she would do so thinking of him."-Or Inej is captured on the high seas, and Kaz asks what revenge he can give.
Relationships: Hanne Brum/Nina Zenik, Inej Ghafa & Nina Zenik, Jesper Fahey & Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, Nikolai Lantsov & Nina Zenik, Nikolai Lantsov/Zoya Nazyalensky
Series: My Numerous Kanej Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050575
Comments: 11
Kudos: 73





	see the daybreak through black curtains

If Inej Ghafa were to die on this ship, she would do so thinking of him.

She was sick and cold, her body beaten numb by the men who’d taken her and her ship in the dead of night, too close by the time they were noticed. Inej would have been on deck, with her crew, on the lookout, but she’d been sick.

They’d tortured her for Saints know how long, and when they’d grown angry with her proverbs, they’d gone to a length that Inej never saw coming. Nights with men she didn’t know, didn’t want to know. Sometimes there was beer on their breath, sometimes they were sober.

It never made a difference, them using her body to their pleasure in all the same ways. Inej made herself retreat, pull away. This was not happening to Inej Ghafa, none of it was, this was happening to the body that hosted her soul.

Her soul was far, far away, with her friends. On missions, slipping through shadows. Walking the sunny streets arm in arm, the beat of a cane with them. Him. Always him.

Sometimes he was in the corner, watching with something akin to a smile, sometimes he was there. Those rough and calloused hands in hers, or maybe the leather gloves. Neither mattered to her now, all she knew was him.

Inej was hurt, sick, and wanted to float into an endless sleep. But she was also dreaming of Kaz Brekker.

* * *

Nina Zenik hated the sight of Inej’s ship being pulled along by the dinghy slaver ship, barely noticeable in the moon's weak light.

Nikolai, Sturmhond, whatever name he was going by today, was watching the two ships move through the waves, his face one of pure calm. They all knew they had to get  _ The Wraith _ and her crew away out of there, but the actual execution of that would be much trickier.

For not the first time, Nina wished Kaz Brekker had joined them on this accursed boat. He’d, after all, been the one to raise the alarm that Inej had not returned, kicking off the month-long search for the King’s Queen.

They had found her, some four hours before, just after it turned too dark to see around you. They had the element of surprise, but they had no brilliant mastermind to figure out how to use that.

Nikolai was good, but this was just a tad different. This wasn’t just a sinking of a ship. They had to rescue an unknown amount of people and had to get Inej’s ship from the clutches of the slavers.

Finally, the captain spoke, his voice silencing the anxious tittering of the crew. “We board in an hour. Five of you will board  _ The Wraith,  _ and sail it away, to our rendezvous point, Ketterdam. The rest of us will either stay on this ship or board the ship. From there we’ll split into two groups. One will take out crew, the other rescue captives. The priority is the captain and those who were on the boat before  _ The Wraith _ was taken.” Nods passed among the crew. 

He met Nina’s eye, “Miss Zenik, will you be a dear and lead the retrieval of the captives?” His eyes shone in the moonlight.

Nina gave him a sly grin, “Of course,  _ Captain _ .” She turned to the woman at her side, “Hanne, love, would you care to help?” Hanne smiled.

“Of course.”

They pulled alongside the ship, the only sound being the lap of waves. They pulled close, and then they pulled out the planks that would let them, board. A small rowboat was lowered, the five people on it rowing to the other ship.

The crew, silent as mice, boarded the other ship. Then a light went up, and heavy footsteps could be heard. A door flew open, the slavers' ship crew desperately trying to fend off the attack. 

The battle that followed was a messy one, casualties on both sides. But Nina and Hanne, followed by a handful of others, managed to push through the fray and the defences around the door to the hull.

“Go!” Cried Nina to her group, “Get the other captives! Hanne and I will find the captain!” The group separated.

Nina ran, opening every door she found. If these slavers were smart, they would have secluded Inej, not allowing her to conspire with her crew. Finally, after what felt like hours of running and opening doors and finding nothing, Nina found her friend.

Nina had to stop the second she saw her. She was pale, slumped in the corner of the dank room. Her clothes were rumpled in ways they shouldn’t be, her skin bruised. Her lips bled, the scarlet liquid sluggishly dribbling down her chin. Her eyes were closed.

Nina gasped, and she saw Hanne still in the corner of her eye. She flew to her friend’s side, crouching down next to her, desperately searching for a pulse at her friend’s neck. Finally, she found it, causing Nina to sag with relief. 

She remembered something like this, five years ago. Kaz bringing her to the ship in his arms, her bleeding out on his nice clothes. The confrontation of the weasel known as Oomen, the sickening sound of eyes pulled out. Wylan’s retching.

_ How very mercher _ , Nina had thought.

But there was no weasel here, no bastard to enact revenge. There was just the wraith, her best friend, and the daughter of her enemy. 

“Inej,” Nina whispered, shaking the pale girl’s shoulder, “Inej, it’s me, Nina. Speak to me Inej. Inej, Inej.”

_ Open your damn eyes, Inej. _

The Wraith stirred, her eyes slowly blinking open. They were dull, unfocused, their usual glimmer gone. A girl far gone.

“Nina?” She slurs, her busted lip warping her words.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m getting you out of here, okay? We’re going home.”

“Home?” Inej asked, her head lolling, “To Ketterdam? To Kaz?”

Nina gave a breathless laugh, “Yes, to Ketterdam. Home, to Kaz.” She trailed her hand down her best friends face, unsure of what to say to the bleeding girl, who wanted to go home to her love. Nina would have laughed if she didn’t know if her friend would survive.

“Hanne,” Nina said, “Help me get her out of here.” The sound of the fight had died above them. Nina hoped that meant they won.

Hanne was silent as she helped lift the deadliest woman in the seas. Nina met her eyes, trying to give a smile. Hanne looked at her with sympathy. Ninas eyes were not swimming. 

They saw other members of the crew, all helping the other captives out. Nikolai stood in the centre of it all, watching the scene with crossed arms. Then he spotted the three women. 

His jaw clenched as he saw Inej. He called over Toyla, who regarded the sorry state of Inej with narrow eyes. The man took Inej in his arms, carrying her back to the ship where he would try not to let her die.

Nina did not cry.

* * *

What had he told her, that one time?

Something about coming to her, no matter what? Fighting with their knives out and pistols blazing, because what they did. Never gave up, never stopped fighting.

She could remember how he looked then, his pale face turned away. Had the wind whipped around them or was the air still? Perhaps they were inside? The night was all but blurry smudges, her only clarity being him and how he’d looked.

Inej had the barest inkling of where she was. She knew she was being carried, moved away from that hellish ship. And Nina had been there, sweet Nina, her closest friend. Promising her return to safety. Maybe that’s what he had meant when he told her that.

She was settled onto something, and the world still tilted and shifted around her, blurring and smudging. She felt her body slow down. She did not fight for consciousness. 

She would wake up only a few times more, the world always blurry and discordant until she fell asleep again. This time was different.

She was in someone's arms again. The air was cool around her, she was outside, likely at night. She had grown used to seeing the world through a blurry lens, so she felt surprise rock her when she opened her eyes she could see the stars that twinkled overhead, and the moon hanging.

Her eyes drooped again after a minute, the world too bright for her sensitive eyes. She felt herself going down, many footsteps around her. She wondered where she was. 

They stopped suddenly, and then she heard it. Wheels creaking, a door flying open. Multiple sets of heavy footsteps coming to them, one of them broken by another thud. It couldn’t be.

Then she heard it, a voice she knew all too well, “Oh sweet Ghezen.” Jesper.

She was home.

She would have stirred, moved at the sound of his voice, and she tried, she did. But her bones were heavy, feeling like they were weighed down by weights. The final set of footsteps stopped.

“What happened?” The familiar salt-rock-rasp cut through the night air.

_ Home. _

Nina spoke, “Not here.”

She was passed off into warm arms, and then they were walking away. The night air was silent around them, the only sound being the lapping waves and the sound of a cane against cobble.

They stepped into something, a carriage perhaps, and Inej was set down on one of the seats. Someone was speaking, then they burst into motion. Finally, she found the strength to move, her head lolling to her shoulder. She let out a low groan as she attempted to move.

There was a hand on her shoulder, “Stay still, Inej.” His voice, in her ears, ringing and ringing. 

“Kaz-” she choked out.

She coughed, her still hurting body screaming as they wracked her. She heard someone mutter something, and a cool hand was pressed to her head.

“What’s wrong?” Wylan, he was here too.

“She had a fever when we got to her. We thought we brought it down, but it’s coming back now.” She was growing warm, now that she thought of it. The hair was pushed from her forehead gently, the only feeling being coarse leather.

She did not want to drift off, not again, but the world tilted and blurred so much now, that she gave in again, the darkness taking her under.

* * *

Kaz Brekker had seen many things before, some good, some bad, some utterly gruesome. He’d done good things, done bad, done gruesome. But the sight of Inej, pale and drawn, lying still in the great, white-silk bed, made his stomach turn.

The doctor had told him what they’d seen, what they knew. What her injuries and bruises may mean. What had been done to her.

Kaz knew there would be a time for revenge, revenge for Inej. But he had pushed those thoughts away as he sat in the living room of the mansion, nursing a glass of whiskey, listening to this doctor tell him things he never had wanted to hear. 

He had thought she would be safe on the high seas. Away from the shadows of Ketterdam, away from the looming building where she’d had everything hers stripped away by men she didn’t know. 

He knew his friends were watching him, his cold expression, a blank slate. He did not let himself wonder what they were thinking of him. He was hers right now, only hers. She was the only one whose opinion mattered to him, hers and hers alone. Curse those who pried too far.

Then the doctor had retired, saying they wouldn’t be able to do more until Inej was awake.    
  


So here he sat at her side, a boy in all black standing out in a room of white silks and lace, elegance and pureness The Bastard of the Barrel knew not. Inej’s hair fanning out like a halo around her, an angel in a city of demons.

The day was breaking through the curtains now.  _ Wake up _ , he thought, _ wake up Inej _ . She slept on. He stayed by her side, ignoring the exhaustion that was biting at him, that had been biting at him for almost two months now.

She had been late.

Inej Ghafa had never once been late, not in the five years since she set out to the sea. The hours bled away, and once the day passed, Kaz wrote a letter.

The letter found its way to the courts of Ravka, being discussed by a Pirate King, his Grisha Queen, and their Triumvirate. One of his crows sat there too, her face drawn and pale as she worried over what this may mean.

The King knew that being in Kaz Brekker’s graces was an advantage he couldn’t give up. The man had extensive knowledge on how Ketterdam worked and knew every single dirty secret the Merchant Council had ever had. A King, needing the help of a criminal was a laughable thing, but even he knew that Dirtyhands was no regular criminal.

Almost all of Ketterdam, the city that prided itself on being free and democratic, was under the gloved thumb of one man. He had crows on the Council, crows in the streets, crows in the gambling halls, crows in the pleasure houses. Places, where whispers were shouts and secrets, were gossip.

And as rumour had it, the Bastard knew the identity of the Council of The Tides, the most elusive and esteemed identities in possibly the world. He was a safe and secure man, no one having the stupidity to try at the man who knew everything.

So the King had set out, bidding his Grisha Queen a cheery goodbye, leaving the woman and her Saint-Scale fetters to rule the country in his absence. Ravaka, the firebird that flew in The King’s heart, would be fine in the careful hold of the Storm Witch. 

And the king had delivered, bringing Dirtyhands’s beloved home, his own Queen. His queen of the sea and the shadows, the reason he knew half of what he knew today. The bricks of his kingdom, the jewels in his crown.

He heard the waitstaff enter, dropping off a tray of food, water, along with a pot of coffee. The sun was almost visible over the buildings. Then, the sun could be seen over the grey expanse that was Ketterdams buildings, and Inej stirred.

Her body twitched, a low moan escaping her. His heart leapt into his throat, desperation clawing at it. But he forced himself to calm, to put her first. Her eyes fluttered open, slowly focusing on the world around her.

Her head turned to him, and once she saw him, her eyes swam with tears, a relieved smile stretching over her face. He found himself returning it with a small smirk, his face softening as he did. She attempted to move, but her face screwed up in pain.

Before Kaz knew what he was doing, he had her hand on her back, helping her up. Her hands gripped his arms, their skin separated only by Kaz’s shirt. He ignored the rising waters.  _ Help her _ , his mind screamed.

Then she was up, hunched over, her arms circling her waist. He let her be for a moment, grabbing the tray that had been delivered by the waitstaff. He handed her a glass of water as he sat next to her, close but not touching.

Silently she sipped the water, ignoring the food for now. Kaz poured himself some coffee, watching her as he drank.

Her face was gaunt, pale and drawn. She seemed haunted, and Kaz thought back to what the doctor had said. “Inej,” he blurted out before he could stop himself, “What did they do to you?”

He knew the answer already, of course, but maybe there was some desperate part of him that wanted her to tell him something different, or maybe he just wanted to hear of from her lips.

Inej did not look at him, but he could see the shimmer in her eyes now as she stared out the window. She set her glass down, it now empty. Kaz waited, watching her with patient eyes.

“Kaz,” she whispered, “Can I-” her voice cut off as she let out a sob.

“Inej,” he said with a gentleness that he had only for her, “What do you need me to do?”

She held out to her arms to him then, taking him slightly by surprise. He set his drink down, steeled himself, then held her, hugged her.

Her arms were around his neck, her head on his shoulder. He was still, a hand on her back, another one on her head. Slowly, he started to card his hand through his hair as her sobs grew, and she held tighter.

Kaz Brekker knew what had happened to her. But she did not need to know, not just yet. 

* * *

Inej was in his arms, a circle of protection.

She had never been a hugger, never liking the way she felt she was trapped, trapped forever. But with him it was different. He didn’t cling, he held her, a hand on her back to steady her, a hand in her hair, steadying them both.

_ It isn’t easy for me either. _

They’d been this close before, but it had never felt like this. Inej would have revelled in the feeling of being in his arms if she could if she didn’t feel like she was one gust of wind away from shattering like a porcelain doll. 

“Inej,” His voice cut through the room that had been silent apart from his breathing and her breathless sobs. “Inej,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Who did this?” His voice was gentle, but Inej could picture the way his eyes were burning, his need for revenge the fuel.

She lifted her head to look at him, “They’re all dead, Kaz.” 

“No,” he hummed, “They’re not. Nikolai simply took those who didn’t die in the fight prisoner. They’re in Ketterdam as we speak.” 

“All together?”

He laughed, a dark, roguish sound that seemed to echo in the room, “I’m not that stupid. They’re each in a safe house across the city, heavily guarded.” 

The hand on her back came to her chin, cupping it, giving her a boyish smile, “They’re ours to deal with.” Inej paled at the thought of seeing the men again. 

“Or mine,” He amended.

“What would you do to them if I told you who I remember?” She whispered.

Kaz was silent, “There was more than one?” His voice was a deadly, poisonous and sharp, whisper. A blade scraping against stone.

Inej did not have the heart to speak. So she nodded. 

Kaz’s hand on her cheek did not tighten, nor did the one in her hair. But his eyes narrowed into dark slits, murder painted on his entire face. “Who was it Inej?”

“And if I told you,” she repeated, “What would you do to them?”   
  


“Inej,” He said, “You know me. What do  _ you _ think I would do?”

_ Murder them. Cleave their eyes out. Torture them until they beg for death, but leave them to suffer in their misery. Cut their balls off.  _ A thousand gruesome tortures were in Inejs mind, but she could not choose one, to tell him, one that she knew he would do. “I do not know,” she admitted.

Kaz gave a grin, “I would gag them, cut their hearts out while they tried to scream. I would do what you did to Pekka Rollins, but I would make the final cuts,” His hand on her chin, his eyes dark, her hand on his shoulder, “Leave them to die in the dark alone and afraid.”

A demon, a murder, the man who eats men whole. Was that not what the man Inej loved was? She had thought she hated his gruesomeness, and maybe she still did, but there was no Kaz Brekker without his ruthlessness.

He was bringing down his armour, strengthening himself, her hand on his shoulder, slowly creeping to his face, that told her that. But his armour and his ruthlessness were two different things. His armour had kept him from crumbling in on himself, him being too weak to do it on his own, but his ruthlessness was what made him a king.

There was no king, no crown, no him, the man she loved, without that. Inej did not find her stomach turning when he told her that he wanted to make the men who had hurt her, hurt ten times more. Maybe that was a sign he was corrupting her, her morals, her belief in her saints.

She did not think so. These men were the worst scum on the earth, and had she not wished the most painful death on their kind when she was in the House of Exotics when she was the Lynx? Or their death when she was the Wraith, their death when she was a Captain of the high seas?

These men deserved their deaths, she decided. They took pleasure and only gave pain, touching what was not theirs, stealing something that would never be returned. Inej would not have enough prayers to cleanse herself of killing that many men though, so turning to someone she loved, a trusted man with no need to repent, that is what she would do.

“So my dear Inej, what do you say?” 

“I’ll tell you,” she said, “But, I want your gloves off. We had a deal.” Their eyes met.

The confidence was simmering away, replaced with a pale boy, sweating bullets, with eyes the size of the moon. Big doe eyes, none of the innocence. Only pain.

She felt her heart pull, “No,” she retracted, “If you can’t-”

“Is that what you want?” His voice was soft, “Is that all you need for me to do if it means that the men who hurt you will suffer?” He swallowed, his adam apple bobbing, “Then I will do it for you, Inej.”

As he slipped the first glove off, a shudder racked his body. Inej did not let her hands touch him, not yet. The second glove came off, seconds later. They sat in silence for a moment, then Kaz reached out.

His hand brushed her chin, and Inej saw his eyes, wide and curious like a child learning something new for the first time. Then, he cupped it as he had. His breath was more ragged, his face pale.

But she was warm and alive. Not hot from the fever that had broken in the night, or a cold corpse under his skin. Warm and alive, a heartbeat under her skin, the air in her lungs. Alive, alive, alive.

Inej is alive, he’s alive, breathing and alive.

Beautifully, mercilessly, alive.

* * *

Inej had fallen asleep after the doctor had come, and Kaz had left to take care of the men, just like he had promised.

Inej woke again later into the day, just as the sun was setting, blearily noticing the absence of Kaz as she left her bed, her sore joints and muscles aching in protest as she rose out of the bed. She stretched a bit, rolled her shoulders, before pulling on the silk robe that had been left on the chair for her.

She pulled it close around her as she opened the door, walking out of the hall to where she knew the living room lay.

It was Jesper who first spotted her, standing in the doorway as she stared tiredly at the other three crows and Hanne. He lept up, calling her name out as he rushed to her. She gave him a tired smile as he helped her over to the couch.

She sat in between Wylan and Nina, leaning on the latter almost immediately. Wylan smiled at her, and Hanne waved at her from where she was perched on the armchair closest to Nina. 

Jesper, who had gone into the kitchen, returned with a tall glass of water, handing it to her. Muttering a thank you, she took the glass and greedily gulped down the water. Once she was done, she set the glass down.

“How are you feeling?” Jesper asked, nervously wringing his hands as he glanced at her.

“Like I just got hit with Kaz’s cane,” she said.

“How would you know what that feels like?” A voice came from the doorway. They all turned to see the man himself, leaning against the doorway, the entire front side of his shirt red with blood.

It said a lot about the group when the first question out of anyone’s lips was not why he had blood on him, they all knew the answer, but rather how he’d made it through the city without someone noticing.

He spared his shirt a glance, before glancing out the windows, “Rather dark out now, no? And I had something to cover this up. Something dark.” His grin was like a knife.

“And pray do tell,” Jesper asked, leaning back “What was that?”

“A jacket.”

Jesper rolled his eyes, muttering an of course. “Only you would wear a jacket in this heat.”

“It’s colder today.”

“No,” Nina cut in, “It’s not.” Nina crossed her arms as she looked at Kaz.

Kaz stepped further into the room, leaning on his cane, “Nina, dear, how would you know if you never left the house?”

Nina gave him a scathing look, which he either didn’t notice or care enough to respond to. He had sat in one of the many plush chairs in the room, rubbing his leg as he did. He looked rather tired, but Inje knew him well enough to know that wouldn’t stop her.

He had noticed Inej, who was leaning against Nina, by this point. He gave her a once over, and when he noticed nothing he seemed to give a little, barely noticeable, sigh. 

A maid entered the room, carrying a tray of drinks. It was set on the table, and Wylan thanked her. She scurried away, and the conversation picked up.

“How’s business at the club?” Inej asked at one point.

“Booming as usual,” Kaz said, his lip quirking up in a prideful little smirk.

Jesper made a coughing noise that sounded suspiciously like ego, but Inej couldn’t be sure. Kaz just glared at him in response, causing Jesper to roll his eyes.

It was Wylan who spoke next, “You know, this is the first time we’ve all been together since the Ice Court.”

The absence of the sixth crow did not go unnoticed, and nor did Hanne fill the gap, but it was almost what they’d been. A bit older, of course, more experience and connections under their belt, grown up a bit, but so close to what they were.

Of course, there were some other glaring differences. The golden bands on Jesper and Wylan’s fingers, Hanne, or the subtle richness that Kaz just exuded. The big, velvet-covered couches, the colour of blood on Kaz’s shirt.

But it was home.

Home for Inej was wherever Crows came to rest at night. Whether that be the high sea, the window sill of a leaning home, the silver and gold manor in the high city. The Little Palace of Nina’s youth, the Fjerdan lands that Matthais was laid to rest, all home.

Her home was where she could walk arm in arm with Nina with no stares, run through them with Jesper. Where she could talk with Wylan in the shadows, or where she could stand by Kaz Brekker and be with him.


End file.
